


Eeeuuuggghjjjjj

by meanfrogs



Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 11:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14354595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanfrogs/pseuds/meanfrogs
Summary: Bart and Faq con non suspecting people into buying terrible copper in some market stall in Ur. They hate each other and also kiss, hell yeah





	Eeeuuuggghjjjjj

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first ever fic! Sorry if it's terrible! Thanks to the Bartimaeus Discord for giving me the idea for this fic. Idk I just love the dynamic between Bart and Faquarl, and for some godforsaken reason Faquarl is my favorite character. Hope you like it, R&R my dudes! please criticize everything i do!

Sunset in Ur was... nice. Faquarl didn't have a ton of experience with coming up with positive-sounding adjectives, especially to describe things like sunsets, but nice summed it up pretty well, he thought. The orange light over the Persian Gulf reflected in a pleasing way. It was nice. 

Or it would have been, if he hadn't currently been sharing a merchant stall with arguably the most annoying spirit he'd ever had the misfortune to meet.

"Hey you! Yes you with the absolutely stunning hairdo, how would you like to take a look at our selection of high grade copper? Only the finest in Alik Tilmun, the most-- ah, shes gone."

Faquarl sighed and massaged his temples. He and Bartimaeus had both been recruited just a few days prior by a magician parading under the name Ea-nasir, a middle aged man with a receeding hairline and bad teeth. He operated a pretty run of the mill copper trading establishment, which consisted of just one small stall in the overflowing marketplace. He apparently hadn't been doing well enough to pay for actual human labor, and so resorted to summoning up slaves to perform the mind numbing task of selling C-grade copper. Which was by no means an unusual situation, and in most cases Faquarl would generally take it well. It didn't require any life threatening tasks, and he could enjoy the sunset and wait for any opportunity to double cross his charge.  
So it all would have been just fine, if not for the stunningly aggravating company he was forced to keep for the duration of this summoning.

"Get yer copper here, the finest copper in all of Mesopotamia! Step right up and take your pick!"  
"Could you not shout in my ear? This place is loud enough as is."

Bartimaeus leaned over and twisted his mouth down.  
"Exactly, it is loud, which is why I won't be heard if I don't shout."

"Well, I have no problem with that."

Bartimaeus just smacked Faquarl's arm and went back to his previous position of leaning precariously over the counter, forcing passersby to make a wide berth to avoid him.

Another aggravating part of this job was the requirement of wearing static human guises. Faquarl knew a lot of his bad mood could be attributed to being unable to shift his essence around, forcing it to remain stationary and feeling the ache gradually grow. 

To demonstrate his feelings on this matter, he'd chosen a sour-faced old man, and leaned far back in his chair, into the dark interior of the stall and away from the people, arms crossed.

Bartimaeus, of course, vainly flaunted a handsome dark-skinned Sumerian, with dark curly hair and long eye lashes, and, Faquarl noticed, had added a touch of gold makeup to the eyelids, making them shimmer a little when he blinked.

"What are you staring at?" 

Faquarl felt himself redden slightly, to his disgust.  
"Just at your stupid too short robes, what possibly inspired you to go out like this?"

Bartimaeus sniffed. "Its all the rage in fashion right now, you wouldn't get it."

"Um, excuse me? I'd like to buy this copper, please."

Bartimaeus jumped. "Of course! You know, you've made a good choice. This copper is the finest in all the known world, and just the right color to bring out your eyes."

Faquarl rolled his eyes, but fortunately the woman laughed, and said "I'll be using it to make tools, not jewlrey, but thanks."

"Yeah, no problem! Have a great day!" He beamed at her and waved as she merged back into the crowd. For some reason Faquarl felt his mood worsen.

"Strange to be so polite to her when we're selling shit copper."

"Shhh! Don't be so loud! This is the finest copper in the whole universe. Don't lie to our customer base, Faquarl." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It turned out that salesmanship was not really one of Faquarl's strong suits. 

"You just have to get people to trust you! Which, like, I get that that's hard, with you being you and all, but you could at least put the effort in."

Faquarl groaned and rested his chin on his hands, surveying the passing people.

"Why is this so difficult?" 

Bartimaeus grinned at him. "You just gotta make them feel welcome! Like I do!"

"All I've seen you do is flirt with them."

"And they buy our stuff! Because they feel welcome! Here, you try it."

"No, really, that is not something--"

Bartimaeus was already flagging someone down. "Relax! Just compliment them. It'll be fine."

Faquarl narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him but he didn't have time to actually say anything before some youngish man with a broad nose and very dark brown skin wandered over to their stall.

Bartimaeus nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, harder than was strictly necessary.

"Er, hello, what brings you here today?"

The man frowned. "That guy next to you waved me over here."  
Bartimaeus grinned at him and did a ridiculous thumbs up. 

"Ah, yes, well, welcome! As you can see, we carry here the... most exquisite copper you could ever think to own, and, might I add, just the right hue to... perfectly match your lovely skin tone."

The man raised his eyebrows and Faquarl felt his face redden. "Also, to be entirely candid, the garments you've chosen to wear today suit your form very well." 

The man glanced down at his robes. "Oh, well thanks, I decided to try out something different today! I appreciate it." 

Faquarl exhaled. "So how about buying some of this copper then?"  

The man laughed a little. "I'm ok, I don't need any copper, I just came over to see what that guy wanted," he said, gesturing to Bartimaeus, who was staring at them throughout the interaction, and who Faquarl realized had been silent for the longest time since he had met him. Which had only been about a minute, to be fair, but still remarkable.

The man wandered off again with a small hand wave and a couple confused glances back toward their stall.  
Faquarl sighed. "Well, that's the last time I try something that embarrassing. I'll figure out a different tactic." He glanced over at Bartimaeus, who was still looking at him with an odd expression on his face. "Are you... alright?" 

Bartimaeus started. "What, yes, of course! Nice job Faquarl, real good, keep up the good work." He then woodenly shifted his body to direct his full attention to the teeming crowd of shoppers. Faquarl blinked, and unsure of what to do, followed his lead and stared out into the anonymous crowd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Conning unsuspecting market goers into purchasing low quality items masquerading under frankly untrue labels had its ups and downs, but for the most part Faquarl found himself actually enjoying it.

He and Bartimaeus had been working for Ea-nasir for a while now, and they'd gotten good enough to branch out beyond just copper. It was still the bulk of their sales, but they also convinced people that frayed and ragged clothing were brand new, that lutes barely held together with spit and broken strings were just in need of a small tune-up, that cracked fish tanks would most certainly hold water sir, why would you even ask. 

On one memorable occassion, Faquarl had attempted to sell some beat up kitchenware to an imp running errands, but hadn't quite managed to swallow the inexplicable fondness he'd attained for good and honest cooking practices and couldnt choke out the necessary lies to persuade him. The imp had turned up his nose and would have buzzed off to a different stall if Bartimaeus hadn't intervened and sold him on some complete fabrication about how the various dents and fissures allowed for non-stick surfaces or something that Faquarl absolutely cringed to hear. After the imp had finally left, dented skillet in tow, Bartimaeus turned to him and asked what the hell his deal was with kitchen stuff anyways.

Faquarl wasn't sure what his deal was with a lot of things. He wasn't sure why he'd developed fondness for anything on this godforsaken planet, let alone kitchenware. He also didn't know why he paid so much attention when Bartimaeus flirted with customers, or why he allowed Bartimaeus to get on his nerves so often. Or, more concerning, why recently Bartimaeus had been getting on his nerves less and less. And he certainly didn't know why he kept allowing Bartimaeus to make gestures that he could only really qualify as physically affectionate.

Over the last few days Bartimaeus had been touching his arm, his shoulder, just brief fleeting points of contact that to his dismay Faquarl found himself leaning into. And he especially hated that he couldn't stop thinking about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days before the kitchenware incident, both Faquarl and Bartimaeus had been reclining near the back of the stall, out of the glare of the sun. It was somehow hotter that day than it had been any of the others since their summoning, and less people were out at the market. The few that were hurried to where they needed to be, sweating rivulets and kicking up scorched sand. 

Barely anyone had even approached the stall that afternoon, so Bartimaeus and Faquarl had just been lounging in the shade, playing various card games Bartimaeus had said he'd learned in Uruk, but which all fell apart when he forgot the rules. So they'd ended up just playing War, flipping each card up languidly as they felt the sun sap their energy. 

"8 beats 2, get outta here you loser." Bartimaeus half heartedly flipped Faquarls card off the armrest of the chair and on to the floor, where it joined a graveyard of other cards, most of them Faquarl's, to his mild irritation. 

Faquarl felt his eyes droop a bit as he turned over his next card, and waited for Bartimaeus to flip his.  
He looked up when he felt Bartimaeus inexplicably grab his hand.

"Your skin is super soft," Bartimaeus said, eyes half closed. Faquarl watched his gold eyelids shimmer.

"It's not mine, it's my guise." He said for some reason, instead of pulling his arm away.

"Well, whatever. It's nice is all I'm saying."

Faquarl listened to the low buzz of insects from just outside the stall while Bartimaeus turned his hand over to inspect the other side, wondering what exactly was happening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ea-nasir had sent them to a neighboring town to try their luck in the local markets there since they'd began receiving so many complaints about the authenticity of their wares in Ur that their sales had been suffering. To hold up the last dregs of making their business look reputable he and Bartimaeus had been forced to retain their human guises and travel by foot the distance between the two cities with all the other humans. However, on this particular afternoon, in this particular stretch of the road there were no humans to be found, which made the idea of trying to blend in with them feel even more ridiculous.

The blazing sun and cumbersome cargo did nothing to improve Faquarl's already bad mood, and he especially despised that Bartimaeus seemed to be in rather high spirits.

"What's not to like?" He called over. "Big open sky, sun on your face, fresh country air?"

"We could've gotten there in half the time if we could fly," Faquarl grumbled back.

"And what? Miss the excitment of the open road? Come on!"

Goddamn was Bartimaeus infuriating. Mind boggelingly so. It was a real wonder how so many undesirable traits had clustered in one irritating being. Just his face alone was enough to make his mood sour, and anything coming out of that mouth...

"What was that?"

"I said you're a loathsome djinni and i wish you would die."

Bartimaeus stopped walking and scowled at him. "Damn, what's your problem?" 

Faquarl raised his long suffering eyes up to look at the other spirit.

"My problem is that I'm stuck transporting cheap gimmicks in the least efficient way possible, the sun is ungodly hot, and I havent been off this insufferable earth in three weeks."

Bartimaeus looked a little surprised at the outburst, but opened his mouth to say something no doubt worthless. Before he could, Faquarl finished, "Oh. And also, you're here."

Which was probably unnecessarily petty, but Faquarl felt like his nerves were raw and the heat was really getting to him.

And Bartimaeus apparently felt inclined to agree, because there was no sign left of his previously airy mood and his face was twisted in an even deeper scowl. He stalked over to him from the other side of the wagon.

"You know what, Faquarl? Shut up."

"Oh, very scathing, I'm shaking in my boots."

Bartimaeus leaned in and jabbed a finger in his chest.  
"You're not even wearing boots!"

"Oh, you noticed that, did you? Well done, I thought you might be too self absorbed to see anything outside your own essence!"

They glared at eachother for a long moment, breathing hard. Faquarl suddenly became hyper aware of how close their faces were to eachother, and then became weirdly fixated on how red and mottled Bartimaeus had allowed his face to become. It stood very out of place with the flawlessness of the rest of the guise.

Then Bartimaeus punched him in the face. 

He slowly raised his hand to his cheek and just stood there, staring at Bartimaeus while he stared back  
.  
"Uhhh, sorry about that." Bartimaeus finally said, rubbing the back of his head.

Faquarl felt himself clench his fist and raise it to retaliate but rather than having it ever connect he did probably the most impulsive (and horrifically human) thing he'd ever done and kissed Bartimaeus instead. 

Bartimaeus made a surprised noise but he didn't pull away and after a second actually grabbed the front of Faquarl's robe and yanked him closer.

Bartimaeus's mouth felt warm in a different way than the sun felt warm, and for whatever indecipherably long amount of time he was pressed up against him Faquarl felt a bit like he was back in the Other Place, swirling and one with the other spirits. 

Bartimaeus broke them apart and suddenly Faquarl was back by himself.

"What just happened?" Bartimaeus asked, looking a bit dazed, fingers threading through Faquarl's hair.

Faquarl stared at him for a moment longer and felt the urge to stretch up a little and kiss his eyelids. Then he decided that was a bit too much and shoved Bartimaeus away from him instead, feeling a few of his hairs rip out as he did so.

"Come on, we're supposed to be there by nightfall."

After a few minutes of walking he finally looked back over at Bartimaeus, who looked a little lost, but also a little... smug? and said "This changes nothing, you know. I still loathe you."


End file.
